


Good Neighbors

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [160]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-26
Updated: 2010-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4312137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jedi to the core.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting  
> My former betas: Alex, Ula, and Padawan Sue
> 
> Thanks to Little Owl for inspiring me to show more of Quinn and Ian's Jedi roots.  
>   
> Arcadias strong in the Force:  
>   
> 1) [Ki of Tranquility](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1752731)  
> 2) [Mastery](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1793575)  
> 3) [The Man of the Moment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1793584)  
> 4) [Avocation](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1793590)  
> 5) [Happy Tatooween](http://www.masterapprentice.org/archive/h/happyt.html)  
> 6) [Happy Tatooween, Take Two: Undercovers](http://www.masterapprentice.org/archive/h/happytatooween2.html)  
> 7) [One Hundred Years of Serenity](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1908060)  
> 8) [In and Out of Jedi Robes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2272749)  
> 9) [Standing Tall](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4140558)  
> 10) [Return of the Jedi Halloween](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4276158)  
>   
> Thanks also to Laura J. Valentine and Jamie for 'The Bridge on the River Kwai' reference.  
>   
> Prudence made her first appearance in Arcadia, though not by name, in [Jedi Trick or Treat](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4209189).  
>   
> To Stacey

Quinn and Ian jogged up the bike path near their home, savoring the brisk spring breeze blowing by them. They loved being out here on their own during the week. It was Reading Day Monday, before the advent of Finals, so most of their neighbors were at work, leaving them the run of the path.  
  
Or not.  
  
Quinn cocked his head; he thought he'd heard a faint cry on the breeze. He started running in earnest when he discerned a warbled "Help!" a short distance away, Ian somehow managing to keep up with him. They burst into a little clearing by the lake and found an elderly woman in a navy sweatsuit looking up at them from her ungainly position on the ground.  
  
"Are you all right, ma'am?" Quinn was already kneeling by her side.  
  
"I twisted my left ankle and I can't put any weight on it," she replied.  
  
"Is there a lot of pain?" he asked, eyes crinkling in concern.  
  
She looked up at him gratefully, brown eyes squinting back at him in the May sunshine. "Not really. I'm a spry old bird, just a tad uncomfortable at the moment."  
  
"No worries. We'll have you back to civilization in no time." Quinn patted her hand.  
  
Ian was already on his cell phone, talking with the 911 operator. Then he knelt by the lady's sneakers and carefully took the left one off, thankful for the velcro tabs. Unrolling the sock over her ankle, which was already slightly swollen, he kept her distracted by whistling the theme song from 'The Bridge on the River Kwai'. He cradled her foot in his hand, his touch professionally gentle, as he assessed the damage. Years of coaching experience, including binding his athletes' injuries, helped him now.  
  
"Looks like it's just a sprain," Ian said in relief. He tore strips from his Skyhawks t-shirt and made an improvised Ace bandage to support her ankle.  
  
Quinn lifted her into his arms with care. "Okay there?"  
  
"Yes, I'm fine," she said.  
  
"Then off we go," Quinn said as he set off back down the path, with Ian walking beside them, carrying her shoe with the sock stuffed inside.  
  
Ian said, "The paramedics will be at the start of the path to meet us. It's too narrow to drive the van up here. We're only about a third of a mile away. You'll be in good hands in no time."  
  
Her lips quirked. "I can see I'm in good hands already, m'boy."  
  
Ian blushed at this; the woman reminded him of his late grandmother.  
  
"From now on, just remember to carry a cell phone with you at all times," Quinn gently admonished.  
  
"I could never get the hang of those newfangled things," she snorted.  
  
Quinn smiled down at her. "We'll be happy to show you. How 'bout coming out to the house for some lemonade when you're up to it?"  
  
Ian grinned at both of them. "We've had no time for introductions. I'm Ian Prentice and this is my husband, Quinn Masterson. It's a pleasure to meet you, though the circumstances could have been better," he added wryly.  
  
She didn't bat an eyelash at 'husband', as both men noted with relief. "My name is Violet Stevens and I'm very glad I met you now. I just moved into the house on the corner with my friend Prudence."  
  
Ian saw the flicker of recognition in Quinn's eyes -- Violet lived with the woman who had hurt his herven with cruel words about their relationship with Lelia on an otherwise joyous Halloween night. He still remembered each word Quinn had repeated to him in bed the next morning, muttering them into his pillow, his voice as hollow as Ian had ever heard it: "You two aren't doing her any favors, you know."  
  
Clearly, Violet did not share her friend's prejudices. But Quinn was glad all the same that he'd invited her over to their home, rather than vice versa. Who knew what Prudence's reaction would be?  
  
Meanwhile, Ian was reflecting uncharitably that Prudence was an ideal name for a woman like this -- an unpleasant combination of 'prude' and 'dense'.  
  
When he heard sirens, Ian went on ahead to let the paramedics know they were coming. One of them ran back with him and took Violet from Quinn's arms. Since he was fresher, he could get her to the van faster.  
  
"We'll follow you to St. Swithin's. Chin up, Violet!" Quinn said.  
  
They walked back home, tired after an emotional workout they hadn't expected. As soon as they got in the door, Quinn gave Ian a kiss and petted his bare stomach, taking advantage of all the luscious skin exposed when the bottom of his shirt had been sacrificed for Violet's bandages.  
  
"Hold that thought, handsome," Ian said in a low voice.  
  
"No way I'll forget." Quinn gave a final pat to his lad's soft skin.  
  
Ian went off to splash water on his face and get a new shirt. Quinn was waiting for him by the door with the little shamrock on his keyring dangling from a forefinger and his wallet in the other hand. Ian stretched up for one more quick kiss, then jangled the keys as he headed out to drive to the medcenter.  
  
Meanwhile, Quinn faced the unpleasant task of telling Prudence about her friend's plight. He forced himself not to drag his feet as he crossed the street by her house, took the path to the front door, and rang the bell.  
  
For one agonizing moment, nothing at all happened. No sound, no movement, no indication anyone was home. Finally, just as Quinn was starting to leave, the door opened just a crack.  
  
Prudence glared out at him. "Never thought I'd see you 'round here again," she said with an undisguised sneer.  
  
Quinn said placatingly, "I'm sorry to bother you, ma'am, but your friend Violet has sprained her ankle --"  
  
He was interrupted by her gasp. "She's okay -- they've taken her to St. Swithin's. I can drive you there, if you'd like." His voice was as soothing as he could make it.  
  
Dislike and need warred on her face, until the latter won out. "Just let me get our purses." She closed the door on Quinn, just as he was saying, "I'll bring the car around."  
  
Thank goodness Ian had gone on ahead; his presence would have riled Prudence all the more. But Quinn had to take the THX because Ian had driven off in the Audi. Since they used the Gallia for outings with Lelia and the family, the sports car had been their sanctum sanctorum for years. It was almost physically painful for Quinn to help Prudence into the passenger side, where she perched at an awkward angle in the low-slung bucket seat. He took pity on her and did not roll down the ragtop, twisting on the air conditioning instead.  
  
Quinn punched in the local news station, rather than the alt-rock he favored while driving, so the silence of their non-conversation wouldn't seem so oppressive. He got them to the center in record time, only out-run by the med-van earlier.  
  
Ian waved at them from his seat by the coffee machine, and Quinn went to sit beside him, trying to get comfortable in the flimsy chair.  
  
"Are you related to Miss Stevens?" the Admitting nurse asked, after Prudence had given her Violet's Medicare card.  
  
She shook her head in frustration.  
  
"Then visiting hours start in half an hour," the nurse said firmly.  
  
The one vacant chair in the cramped waiting room was on Ian's left side, so Prudence reluctantly came over to them, sighing as she got a blast of air conditioning in the face from the vents right by them. No wonder these were the only seats left.  
  
Ian, desperate to do something, made them their drinks, giving the first to Prudence with a small grin, which she did not return. He then sat drumming his feet on the linoleum until she was ready to scream.  
  
The bureaucratic fuss hit home for the men -- although they'd been married for years, they always had their marriage certificate, insurance cards, and every proof of their relationship they could find on hand with them in their wallets and glove compartments. They knew that two men together did not gain the automatic acceptance a straight couple did.  
  
That kneejerk intolerance was simmering right next to them now, in a bright floral dress and sensible shoes.  
  
Prudence perfected her tunnel vision as she seethed with anger in the uncomfortable resin seat. Here she sat, beside two of the people she had spent over a year trying to avoid. Of course, she'd found out after that awkward Halloween encounter that the adorable little girl wasn't theirs -- not to mention that they were married! -- but her visceral disgust remained. Back in the day, these degenerates would have been thrown in jail, not teaching the next generation, yet she had to live in the same neighborhood with them. What was the world coming to?  
  
She couldn't say as they'd ever done anything amiss, even with her ear for gossip, but their very openness about their relationship irked her. And now they had helped her when she needed it the most. The whole situation was intolerable!  
  
She sat fuming beside them, worry for Violet making her even more short-tempered. Finally, she erupted. "Just go home already!" Much to her satisfaction, they got up immediately, presumably spurred by the arctic tone of her voice.  
  
"Please give Violet our best wishes," Quinn said, doubting she would.  
  
"We can come back later, if you'd like a ride home," Ian said softly, leaving Quinn to marvel at his lad's generosity of spirit.  
  
"We'll take a taxi," Prudence said flatly.  
  
Faced with this utter dismissal, they said goodbye and left.  
  
"Well, that was intense," said Quinn as they walked to the parking lot, taking Ian's hand as soon as they were out the door.  
  
"No good deed goes unpunished," Ian quipped to cover his worried sadness.  
  
Of course, he could hide nothing from Quinn, who touched his cheek gently before they got in their cars to drive home.  
  
Quinn arrived first, then waited in the driveway for his husband. When he spotted the silver Gallia turning the corner, he waved and was heartened to see Ian waving back almost jauntily. The Audi, with its sensitive stick, had worked its magic on Ian once more.  
  
He hugged Ian to him all the way up the path, knowing there was no one there to twitch the curtains of the house on the corner. At least Artoo and Sandy greeted them enthusiastically, and all four of them cuddled for a while before the men fed and watered the pups. Now all they wanted to do was collapse in a jumble on the couch. And they did just that -- relieved to be home, relieved to be far away from unfriendly eyes, relieved to be together.  
  
The waves of disgust rolling off Prudence had taken their toll. It had been hard to be in the same room with her. They'd helped her without reservation, aware that she begrudged their very existence, although they knew she was unlikely ever to change her mind about them.  
  
Ian snuggled into Quinn, craving his love and warmth. "I hope Violet's okay. Didn't look serious to me."  
  
"She will be just fine." Quinn buried his face in Ian's sweat-damp hair.  
  
Ian hummed in pleasure. "Wonder if she'll still accept our invitation for lemonade?"  
  
"I wouldn't count on it, lad." Quinn nuzzled into copper strands. "Even if she wants to come, she'll think better of it, once Prudence starts in on her."  
  
Sighing gustily, Ian tightened his arm around Quinn's waist. He tilted his face up for a kiss. "Mmmm. Let's just forget about this whole mess and try to relax."  
  
"Good idea," Quinn said, poking out his tongue to tease Ian's lips before kissing him. He felt his lad easing into him more with each breath and savored the heavy drowsiness of his contented fearcheile (husband). He exchanged lingering kisses with Ian, reluctant to let their mouths part. Those luscious lips were his reward for the trials of the day, trials Ian in particular had passed with grace.  
  
When Ian had asked if he could drive the ladies home after Prudence scornfully dismissed them, Quinn had never been prouder of him. He poured all his admiration into each kiss Ian gifted him with, hoping Ian could feel it, along with his ever-present love.  
  
Ian soaked it all up, while offering his own comfort and love to Quinn. He kissed his way up Quinn's chin to his mouth, relishing the different textures of his guid-man's (husband/master) skin. Soft whiskers gave way to the delicate hollow under tender lips, which yielded just for him, giving him a hint of coffee, which tasted much better on Quinn than it had in his styrofoam cup.  
  
They made up for all the kisses they'd missed on the bike path, and then some -- all the kisses Prudence would've taken pleasure in denying them.  
  
Perhaps the most valuable lesson the professors had yet to teach her was that no one could stop love. They were already well on their way to proving one old chestnut wrong -- the real way to a man's heart is through his lips.  
  
And nothing and no one could defeat the magic of a simple kiss.


End file.
